Autonomy
by PineappleIce
Summary: During the East India Company's occupation of Tortuga, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Navy struggles to find his place on an island that hates him and finds himself falling for the woman who hates him most. [Full summary inside.]
1. I

**Author's Note: **Random plot bunny strikes again!

Its pretty AU… could come before the movies… or just have nothing to do with them. Interpret at will.

This is kind of based on Captain Corelli's Mandolin, which I am reading and loving at the moment.

If you read it, let me know what you think, and I'll try to get another chapter up soon.

&&&&&&&&

**Summary: **When the East India Company occupies Tortuga to deal with the piracy, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Royal Navy finds himself trying to find his place on island that hates him. Billeted in a doctor's house, he finds himself falling in love with the doctor's daughter Esther. But Esther is determined to be his enemy, and he must grow to understand her passion for freedom before he can truly understand her. Decisions must be made and alliances must be decided upon. What will Jack do?

&&&&&&&&

It was funny, in a way. Funny how the entire population of an island could stand together, staring at the same man, and be absolutely silent. Although the silence was not funny. It was absolutely still and almost terrifying; it seemed there was not a sound on the entire island of Tortuga.

It was a cool day; the sky and sea both appeared grey, and gathering clouds promised a storm. A light wind tousled the hair of the whores, and caused the mothers to pull their children closer.

As the first drops of rain began to hit the faces of the crowd, Lord Cutler Beckett smirked at them from the top of his horse. The faces that looked back at him held expressions of fear, anger, hatred and confusion. Small children, with filthy faces and ragged clothing, clung to their mothers. Wives held onto their husbands. Whores huddled together.

"Tortuga." Beckett almost purred the word, letting it roll from his tongue slowly, savouring it. He spoke quietly, but everyone heard him clearly. "I am Lord Beckett."

Nobody spoke, just as Beckett had predicted. His smirk widened a little. He clicked his fingers briskly and Mercer handed him the thick, embellished sheet of paper. Beckett unrolled it leisurely with his black-gloved hands.

"Thank you, Mr Mercer," he smiled. He cleared his throat before starting to read. "_Under the order of the King, the island of Tortuga is to be occupied by members of the British Navy and the East India Trading Company, due to the island's involvement in acts against the Crown._" A sheet of lightning illuminated the sky momentarily. Captain Jack Sparrow thought that this was simply too effective. Bloody Beckett; the man was always so lucky. Beckett paused dramatically as thunder rumbled. "_The island is under the charge of Lord Cutler Beckett_- that is to say, me."

Still nobody in the crowd spoke. Captain Sparrow had been expecting some trouble. An old woman was weeping into her son's shoulder. Sparrow watched her for a moment, and then something to the left of her caught his eye.

Beckett was talking again. "… I shall leave the island under the care of Admiral Powell…"

Sparrow was transfixed; his pulse had started to race. It wasn't the small young women who caught his eye- rather, it was the little shape concealed in her apron. She was clinging to it with an elfin hand.

"Occupation?" Finally one of the occupants of the island had spoken. It was an old man with a bald head and a lavish black beard. "Yer can't do this to us!"

Sparrow wasn't one of Beckett's best men for no reason. He could spot trouble easily. The trouble was how to deal with the trouble now he had found it. He thought quickly.

"I think you'll find I can," Beckett said silkily, sliding calmly down from the horse. Around him, the fifty members of the Navy gripped their weapons more tightly, Captain Sparrow one of them. Beckett walked slowly over to the crowd.

If Sparrow spoke up about the girl, she would be in serious trouble. At best, detained here on Tortuga, although it was possible Beckett would take her back to Port Royal, where his main base was, to jail her or hang her there. At worst, she would be shot where she stood. The first death of this occupation. Sparrow considered. She was too old to be considered a child, but too young, in his opinion, to be a wife.

There was a muscular man a small way away from her, with a dark, strong face. Sparrow glanced between the woman and the man.

He made up his mind. "Officers! That man has a pistol!" he shouted suddenly, pointing at the man.

Beckett hurried back towards his horse as the officers rushed towards the startled man. As they surrounded him, all attention was on him. Sparrow moved forwards swiftly. The young woman had her hand around the barrel of her pistol; she was about to pull it out. Sparrow grabbed her wrist firmly from behind her and she froze.

"Give me the gun," he hissed into her ear.

She started to struggle, but when he grabbed her other arm tightly, she stopped moving and demanded quietly, "What are you doin'? You knew _I _had the pistol."

Sparrow looked up. The man he had accused was being searched. There was little time left before it was discovered that he didn't actually have a weapon. "I'm saving your life," he informed her. "Now give me the pistol."

She looked up at him and he found himself almost troubled by her pallor; her hair was practically flaming orange in colour, like the sun blazing high above the open sea. But her skin was ashen, almost with no colour at all.

She considered him, staring hard at his face, which he tried to keep inexpressive. Then she shoved the cold gun into his hand almost forcefully and stepped back from him, watching the weapon disappear into his neat uniform. "Why did you do that?" she asked quietly.

"He has a pistol!" Admiral Powell declared loudly.

Sparrow jerked his head away from the woman he had saved. The dark man was staring without emotion. Admiral Powell was holding a pistol, similar to the one he had just taken from the woman. Sparrow cursed silently.

"Put him on the return ship," Beckett ordered.

As they placed the man in irons, the woman before Captain Sparrow whimpered. "Anatole," she whispered. A French name. Sparrow was sensing trouble again.

The man named Anatole was being dragged towards the ships. Now his clear grey eyes were starting to show a hint of panic. The crowd was starting to become uneasy, murmuring and whispering in horror.

"Anatole!" The young woman shouted it this time, taking a step forward. The man looked at her but said nothing. The woman started to move forward.

"Captain Sparrow, hold her still, will you?" Admiral Powell barked over his shoulder, gesturing towards the woman who was starting to weep.

Sparrow caught hold of her arm again but she struggled. "Anatole!"

"I love you!" Anatole called back, now disappearing from sight. The crowd was starting to shout. "God, I love you, Esther!" Were they lovers? Sparrow felt a pang of guilt, then realised the woman called Esther had all but pulled herself free from his grasp. He placed his other hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him and he noticed that the eyes shining with tears were also clear grey; Anatole was her brother. "Get off me!" she screeched, suddenly swinging her hand. She slapped him hard around the face, and he was so startled he let go of her.

She turned to look at her brother, but he had vanished into a ship. All the fight went out of her then. She crumpled to the ground and sobbed. Sparrow stared down at the top of her head, at the strangely bright hair that had pretty much come free from the bun she wore it in. Then he looked up at the accusing faces of the crowd, all looking at him in anger, and the blank faces of his comrades.

&&&&&&&&

When Esther Chambers arrived home, her eyes burned from crying. Her shoulders still trembled, and her breathing was sharp.

The storm was raging. Esther had been soaked through climbing the steep, rocky hill to her home. Her hair was stuck to her neck, her blue dress was almost translucent with the water. Even the boots she wore, originally the property of her father, had let some water in.

"Father?" she called in a small voice she didn't recognise as she entered the house, stepping into the kitchen.

Doctor Chambers had been unable to go down to the ships; he was attending to a patient in the house. Instead he had sent his children, Anatole and Esther, to find out what was happening.

Her father appeared in the doorway that led to the hall. He opened his mouth then closed it, taking in her soaked dress and, more importantly, the red rims around her eyes. "Anatole," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Esther, where is Anatole?"

She could not stand to look at his heartbroken face. A painful lump was rising in her throat. She stared at her feet. "They took him."

"Why did they take him?"

"I… Father, I know you said not to, but we took pistols. Well, I did not know that Anatole had." Esther was close to tears again.

Doctor Chambers did not know what to say to his daughter. Esther found herself in her father's arms, her face pressed to his chest. Somehow the tears broke free of her eyes, and she was certain that her father spilled a few onto the top of her head.


	2. II

**Author's Note: **Another chapter. Thank you for reading this! If you do, please remember to review.

&&&&&&&&

Esther awoke the following morning and wondered for a moment why she had done so. She sat up slowly and looked around her tiny bedroom. It looked quite normal, bathed in early morning sunlight pouring in the window. It was a small room, with space only for her bed, a wardrobe and a dresser.

She had just put her head back on the pillow when she heard voices in the kitchen down the hallway. She got up again, pulling a robe over her white nightdress and heading towards the kitchen, sweeping her long hair over her shoulder.

She stopped in the doorway suddenly, blanching as she saw that Admiral Powell and the dark Captain from yesterday were sitting at the round, scrubbed wooden table.

They looked at her shocked face and at once the Captain rose, sweeping his hat from his head. "Miss Esther! What are you doing here?"

Esther swallowed. "It's Miss Chambers. And… and I should be asking you the same thing." She was trembling in fear and wondered if her father was up yet. It was possible he had already left the house to see a patient.

"Oh!" The Captain looked sincere, although he wore a silly smile. "Don't be afraid, Miss Chambers. We mean you no harm. We're looking for Doctor Chambers- who is, I assume, your father?"

"He is," Esther said. "But I'm not sure if he's here or not."

"In that case the intelligent thing to do would be to check and stop wasting our time," the Admiral said coldly.

Esther caught the Captain's eye and was sure that there was almost an apology lingering there. She frowned. "Yes, Admiral," she said coolly, glad for an excuse to leave the kitchen.

The house was long and narrow; downstairs there was a kitchen, Esther's room, and a long hallway which had stairs up to the second level. Up there was a study which also contained her father's bed, and Anatole's room. Sighing painfully at the thought of her brother, Esther climbed the stairs and pushed open the door to her father's study. It was empty; the white sheets had been placed neatly on the bed.

She closed the door and turned around; she had intended to go back down but her eyes lingered on Anatole's door. She found that she couldn't resist pushing the door open just a crack and peering in. Anatole's scent drifted out and captured her senses.

She swallowed around the aching lump that had suddenly returned to her throat. The Captain had lost her brother. She hated him.

"Miss Chambers?" It was the insufferable Captain himself, standing halfway up the stairs, staring at her. "Are you alright?"

She glared at him, hating everything about him from the ridiculous white wig on his head to his perfectly shiny shoes. "Fine," she said shortly, snapping Anatole's door shut. "My father isn't here."

"Where is he?"

"Well, _I_ don't know!" she retorted sharply, placing her hands on her hips, a gesture she had inherited from her mother.

The Captain's expression was unreadable. His light brown eyes held her flaming eyes steadily. "Fine," he said quietly. "Will you please return to the kitchen?"

Esther was sorely tempted to decline and see what the Captain would do, but she was a little afraid. The Captain seemed placid enough, but she remembered his strong grip on her yesterday and swallowed. Also, the Admiral seemed coldly fierce. So she didn't reply at all, merely held her head up high and stalked down the stairs, brushing right past the Captain. As she did so she caught a scent that was masculine and intoxicating, and for a moment she thought it quite pleasant.

When they reached the kitchen, the Captain sat down beside the Admiral, who looked at Esther and said, "Perhaps you should have a seat."

Indignant at being asked to sit in her own house, Esther forgot her fear. "Perhaps I should not," she replied.

"I wasn't asking."

Esther hesitated, the tip of her tongue on her top lip. Then she sat down opposite her enemies and glared at them. "Why are you here?"

"Regrettably, it is necessary to billet an officer in this house." The Admiral's blue eyes were two chips of ice.

"There is no room- my father is a doctor, half the time this place is full of patients," Esther exclaimed, horrified at the idea of one of the persecutors staying in the house.

"I believe it was your brother Lord Beckett took with him yesterday," the Admiral drawled, "so I should expect there to be one spare room here."

Esther lost her temper. Kicking the chair back, she rose and glared at the Admiral, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her hands were clenched into fists so tightly that her fingernails were pressing into her skin. "You horrible, scummy little man!" she shrieked. "How dare you?"

"Miss Chambers-" began the Captain desperately, but he stopped as the fiery, fuming woman reached for a heavy saucepan. The Admiral was on his feet, and the Captain saw his hand itching to reach for his pistol.

It was lucky that Doctor Chambers returned at that moment.

&&&&&&&&

Esther had been sent out of the kitchen with a comforting kiss to the temple from her father, although the fatigued lines around his eyes offered her no reassurance. Leaving the men to it, she went back to her bedroom and sat on the bed.

Poor Anatole. As tears threatened to well up again inside of her, she flung herself down angrily, pulling a pillow close and clinging to it.

She could hardly believe it. All her life she had loved Tortuga; fair enough, it had its fair share of trouble, but it was free. People could do as they pleased, without answering to a greedy, self-obsessed megalomaniac. She remembered Beckett's toad-like face and for a moment wished that she had shot him. Then she sighed. She didn't really wish that, deep down. How would she feel if she fired a gun at someone? Took someone's life away from them? She was crying now without realising it.

"Miss Chambers?" It was Captain Sparrow. He was standing in her doorway.

"Go away," she said stoutly.

The Captain lowered his soft eyes. "I want to apologise." When she didn't reply, he stepped forward. "Miss Chambers? Oh, don't cry."

She reached up with a small hand and found the tears on her cheeks. Surprised, she just stared at the Captain. "I don't want to talk to you."

"About Anatole Chambers…" The Captain cleared his throat. He could see that Esther Chambers was seconds away from dissolving into the passionate tears he had seen after Anatole had been taken. It was time for drastic action. Without speaking, he pulled the powdered wig from his head and threw it. It hit her square in the nose, and she stopped crying suddenly, shocked.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, cocking her head. She was looking at his real hair, so soft and shining.

He smiled at her. "Because I did not want to see you cry."

"You're mad."

"Perhaps a little." His eyes twinkled. "May I have my wig?"

She was truly tempted to decline playfully, run away from him with the wig, laughing, like in the childhood games she had once played with her father. But somehow that would be too strange. This man was an important member of the Navy. He was her enemy. So she tossed the wig to him and he replaced it.

She watched him for a moment before sighing. "Who are they putting in our house?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow."

She was looking at him with deep grey eyes. She swallowed. "But isn't that you?"

"Yes."

A rush of emotion filled Esther, and she sat up straight. "How can they put you here? You have lost my Anatole," she said, only just remembering this herself.

"Miss Chambers, I was-" he began.

"No! Go away, Captain!" she interrupted. Before he left he took one last look at the disconsolate woman, with her flaming hair and white face. Her eyes would haunt him all day, as he went into the main town with the Admiral.

&&&&&&&&

That night, sitting in Esther Chambers' room, Captain Sparrow wrote a letter. The doctor had insisted that there was no way the guilty Captain could have his son's room, so Esther was going to sleep up there.

In his letter, the Captain addressed Cutler Beckett and almost begged for the return of Anatole Chambers, writing that it would make the islanders trust the Navy more.


	3. III

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews; I love you guys! Here's another chapter for you, it's a little shorter than the other two. I hope you enjoy it and remember to review!

&&&&&&&&

Captain Sparrow woke very early in the morning, feeling uncomfortable surrounded by the luscious scent of the bed he found himself in. He knew he didn't belong here. So he decided to go and sit in the kitchen, where he could clear his head. He had experienced a vivid dream in which a fire-haired woman had hit him hard before embracing him.

In the half-light, the Captain could not see very well, and as he passed into the kitchen, he froze as he heard a tiny squeak. He located where it had come from; Miss Chambers was sleeping under a blanket in the corner.

How strange. He went and sat down, running one hand through his dark hair and another over the curve of his chin. There was stubble there, and he decided he ought to have a shave. The Admiral would be most displeased to find his Captain had a fair smattering of facial hair.

He watched Miss Chambers. Her eyes were closed, her long blonde eyelashes still. She seemed quite a peace. This pleased the Captain, who had still not forgotten the horrific look in her eyes as she had cried yesterday. He was tempted to go and stroke her hair, but somehow that would be too improper. Although that sort of thing wasn't really frowned upon here in Tortuga, he still had to remember his place.

Esther Chambers rolled over suddenly, and the blanket moved down, revealing the tops of her breasts. The Captain swallowed; was she sleeping naked? He found he was blushing and quickly moved towards her, watching the soft curves for just a moment before pulling the blanket back up to her chin.

&&&&&&&&

Esther went into town that morning. It was a cloudy day, and she walked briskly to avoid feeling cold. Her hands were in the pocket of her apron, and her shoulders were hunched. In the town, people were doing their shopping as usual, but they looked pale and scared. Many of the marines were patrolling the streets.

Esther felt annoyed. They had no right to crush people's freedom like this. She raised her chin proudly and stalked over to the nearest stall. But when she got there she realised that the cluster of people around it were complaining and bickering.

"Look at the prices!" an old woman said to Esther.

"It's not my fault!" the owner of the stall snapped back, looking flustered. "It's the East India Company, taxin' things and controllin' the imports."

Esther was filled with anger. She looked around the street with sharp, burning eyes and located two marines a small distance away.

"Oh, darlin', we're sorry to hear about Anatole," the old woman said, her hand on Esther's arm. "He was a good man. Didn't come to me house often enough, I've said it before, but he was decent."

"Thank you, Madame Ebony."

"And Esther… if yer ever need a job, come ter me. You're the sort of girl I'd be happy to have workin' at the house. Always a place for a pretty thing like you."

"Thank you, Madame Ebony," Esther repeated, secretly thinking that even if she had nothing left in the world, there would be no way she would work in Madame Ebony's brothel.

Moving away from the old woman, Esther headed over to the marines, who looked at her warily as she approached. They were young officers, she saw, hardly a day older than Anatole. She thought of her brother and became more incensed. She placed her hands on her hips and glared at them.

"Can we help you, Miss?"

"Apparently not," she snarled. "_Who_ do you think you are, comin' here and takin' away our freedom? You should be ashamed of yourselves!"

A small crowd had gathered around the fuming woman and the two pale marines. They were cheering her on, calling her name encouragingly.

"Miss, we must ask you to stand down," one of the officers said nervously, looking at the crowd.

"Well, I must decline!" she snapped back, stepping forward, unsure of what she was actually going to do.

Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and she was startled by the familiarity of them. She stopped in her tracks and allowed herself to be moved back a little. "Officers, I'll deal with her," the low voice of the Captain said.

The officers looked very relieved as the Captain hauled Esther out of the street. Esther was almost surprised at how rough he was being, and then found it reassured her. She wouldn't know how to deal with it if he was kind. He was her enemy. He let go of her in a side-alley and spun her around to look at him, and upon seeing the look on his face, she wanted to run away.

He looked livid. The intense anger in his eyes was enough to make her tremble.

"Captain, what are you doing?" she asked quietly.

"You foolish woman!" the Captain hissed. "How many times must I save your life? Do you _want_ to die?"

"I would die for what I believe," she replied boldly.

He stepped forward; she tried to move away but found herself against a wall.

"You may well, but I don't want to be there to see it." He barely raised his voice, the words coming out as a low growl.

Their noses were almost touching now. Esther wasn't sure how to react to being so close to a member of the Navy, someone who was stealing the freedom she loved so much. "Why not? What do you care?"

He hesitated, baring his teeth in frustration. He placed one strong hand on each of her cheeks, which made her squirm and panic a little, before he pressed his lips against her forehead in a way that was more an assault than a kiss. When he moved back he was scarlet and she was sorely tempted to laugh; was that his way of demonstrating that he did care? She also wanted to hit him- she did not want to be friends with the enemy.

"Don't do that again, savvy?" she heard herself saying.

"Savvy?" he repeated, and a slanted grin appeared on his face.

"Yes, savvy." She didn't want to be near him when he was wearing that unnerving grin, and she pushed him out of the way, running from the alley.

He called after her. "Until tonight, Miss Chambers!"


End file.
